


a million little histories

by mondegreen (teesandjays)



Category: Gallagher Girls Series - Ally Carter
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, a wild fic dump appears!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:37:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3692553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teesandjays/pseuds/mondegreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. zach/cammie

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic dump consisting of random stories that i started and never finished, prompts by others and general drabbles that will never go further than what is currently written.

**12\. things you said when you thought i was asleep.**

 

"Sometimes I'm scared I'm going to lose you."

It's breathed into the spaces where their bodies don't touch between one breath and the next. Cammie wants to tense up but doesn't, keeps her breathing even and her hands soft where they're tangled with Zach's against her stomach.

"Actually," he whispers on a sigh (she can picture him already, eyes closed in defeat with the tiniest furrow between his brows; the same expression he always makes right before he admits to something he's kept locked up inside to fester and bleed for far too long).

"I'm always scared I'm going to lose you."

She squeezes her eyes closed against the sudden rush of emotions, the desperate need to turn around and throw her arms around him, press her face into the crook of his neck and whisper reassurances that they'd never be able to say in the light of day.

Their apartment has always been a safe place, a place where they feel safe and warm. Locked up in their bedroom, the shadows here don't scare them, don't trap them in darkness, blind and lost and so so confused. No, here the shadows keep them protected, hold all the words whispered between them against the walls of their bedroom. Wrapped up under covers, wrapped up in each other they can share their secrets with each other without worrying about them being picked up by prying ears to be used against them later on. 

But this.

This isn't something Zach has ever told her (isn't something he will ever tell her). This isn't something that he's whispered against her skin with soft lips, something for only her ears to hear in the quiet hours when dark and dawn melt into one.

It's for him and it is not for her to hear.

Cammie knows the value of secrets, knows how they can break and bend and shape people. She knows that some secrets need to be told otherwise they will eat you alive and some need to be buried deep inside because they already do.

And some - some she knows need to be said out loud but are meant only for solid walls to hear and hold, trapped between floorboards and ceiling corners that will wear with age and dust till the words are nestled into the worn down cracks.

Because she understands that, she doesn't say anything, just sinks further back into Zach's arms, sighs the way she knows she does when she's comfortable in a deep sleep and breathes.

His arms tighten around her and he squeezes their joint hands once, twice before pressing his lips against the skin of her shoulder in the barest resemblance of a kiss.

They both sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [this](http://eleisons.tumblr.com/post/113348155726/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a) super duper prompt list. feel free to annoy me on my [tumblr](http://eleisons.tumblr.com/) and send requests.


	2. matt/joe/rachel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emo ot3 drabbles

When Joe wakes up, it's never quiet and it's never peaceful. Joe wakes up in cold sweats, his skin prickling against the night air which is always just a degree too cold. The screams are always _right there_  on the tip of his tongue but he holds them in, bites against them until he can taste the tang of blood in his mouth because he can't let _them_ hear him.

It usually takes him a moment before he realises that the 'them' he keeps thinking of aren't actually there any more - at least not in the way that counts. He remembers that they are only shadows in the night now, ghosts that haunt him when he sleeps. Their voices are only in his mind.

He doesn't know if that makes it better or worse.

So it takes him by surprise when he finds himself blinking awake slowly instead of in a panic induced haze fighting off the demons that he can never quite run away from.

The light in the room is too bright for the early morning hours he keeps which means that he must have slept in which. Well, that's nothing short of a miracle. Or the doing of an inhumane amount of drugs in his system which usually leave him with no choice but to pass out for hours on end.

Joe blinks again, his eyes feeling grainy and heavy. He tries to raise a hand to rub away the sleep but finds it trapped by something soft and warm.

Slowly he looks over, eyes still adjusting to the light and finds himself face to face with...Rachel.

He blinks, thinking it’s just a trick of his eyes, his mind playing games with him. He can tell she’s still sleeping from the steady rise and fall of her chest perfectly timed with the tiny puffs of air that escape her.

He squeezes his eyes shut up and hopes that when he reopens them he will find the bed empty despite his own selfish desire for anything but that. The pounding in his ears doesn’t stop when he opens his eyes and stills find her fast asleep next to him. He swallows deeply, heart in this throat and head in a mess.

His eyes stray to the middle of the bed where their hands are lightly clasped and feels the swoop in his stomach, a confusing mixture of dread and giddiness that leaves him breathless and has his mind scrambling. Joe tries to breathe but it’s impossible to do that when he thinks his entire chest is trying to collapse inwards.

He tries to think of how many times he’s dreamt of this moment but the number is far too large for him to say offhand. But the roiling pit of guilt in his stomach drags him back to the present, makes it hard for him to enjoy any of this because _Rachel is not his_ – she’s not his to have this way.

That thought alone, the thought of Matt finding them like this – makes him sick. He doesn’t know how he ended up here, doesn’t know how he ended up with Rachel, doesn’t know where Matt is. But he knows this is wrong – that he doesn’t belong here.

The creaking of a door makes him abandon that train of thought and his eyes immediately lock on the door where Matt is pushing his head through the opening to peak into the room. His eyes find Joe’s and he smiles but then his gaze sweeps away from him over to Rachel where he pauses. His gaze flickers between the two of them and then slowly towards the middle of the bed. He stares at their joint hands with an unreadable expression before his eyes make their way to Joe’s again.

Joe sits up in a rush and opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out as he steadfastly ignores the burning pit of shame and guilt that’s settled in his stomach and threatens to choke him.

Something in Matt’s face flickers and then softens, a tiny quirk of his lips that sends Joe’s mind into a tailspin trying to figure out what would make that look of Matt’s face appear but he draws a blank.

“Matt...?” he whispers, his voice thick and scratchy, and he means to say more – _I’m sorry_ or _it’s not what it looks like_ or _please just forgive me_ – but he can only manage to get out the name that sounds more like a question than anything else.

Matt just shakes his head, wisps of too long ashy brown hair falling into his eyes. He pushes them back and sends Joe another one of those ridiculously soft smiles that makes his insides twist themselves into knots.

“Breakfast is outside when you and sleeping beauty are ready,” he tells him quietly and then adds on almost as an afterthought, “don’t let her sleep in too late she’ll kill us both.”

“Lies and slander,” comes from a sleep soft mumble next to him and Joe nearly jumps out his skin when he finds Rachel gazing at him, eyes droopy and crinkled at the corners.

“Hush you,” Matt tells her in a fond voice, “and apologise to Joe, I think you’ve just given him a heart attack.”

“Mmm,” she says in response, eyes drooping shut before blinking open again. Joe looks at her and doesn’t try to do anything but breathe because he’s pretty sure he’s woken up in some parallel universe where he falls asleep with his best friend’s girlfriend and doesn’t end up chopped to pieces and fed to the dogs. Metaphorically of course, he knows Matt’s not that violent.

“Stop worrying Joseph. It’s fine,” she says after a few seconds of staring intensely at him. Joe stares back at her in disbelief and then switches over to Matt hoping that he’ll find him looking at Rachel as if she’s gone insane because to Joe that’s the only reasonable explanation he can think of. But Matt’s still looking at them soft and unguarded, making it clear that the two of them have gone off the deep end and Joe has been left to his own devices.

Something in his face must show his thoughts because suddenly Matt’s smile drops from his face, replaced with something serious and intense that sends a shiver through him. Matt takes a step into the room and it’s clear that he’s going to say something but then he stops, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in a nervous gesture that Joe knows all too well.

After a momentary pause, Matt seems to find himself and pins Joe with a weighty gaze.

“How did you sleep last night?”

Joe blinks at the unexpected question trying to rationalize what that has to do with anything but before he can get too far Matt is shooting him an exasperated smile and telling him, ‘just answer the question’.

“Fine, I slept..fine,” Joe says  with a little difficulty. Taking a moment to think about it, it was most probably the best sleep he’s had in a while mostly because he remembers nothing about his dreams and never even woke up thinking he was going to die once.

“Fine as in just fine or fine as in…?”

“Fine as in I didn’t wake up and immediately reach for a knife because I thought someone was trying to kill me,” he rushes out feeling stupidly vulnerable with the two pairs of questioning eyes on him but he manages to meet one of the pairs.

Matt knows what happens when Joe goes to sleep, he’s been there before. He’s held him through the violent shivers when Joe latched on and refused to let go, he’s whispered reassurances to him in the dead of night when Joe woke up trapped in his own nightmares and had to convince him that he wasn't there to murder him. Matt’s been there for it all which means that he knows the gravity of what Joe’s saying.

“Good” is all Matt says in response, his eyes alight with that same emotion that’s always present when Joe has his bad nights - it’s a look that makes Joe feel settled, safe – _protected_.  A soft squeeze to his hand brings him back and he realizes he still hasn’t let go of Rachel. Embarrassed, he immediately goes to pull his hand back but Rachel holds on tightly and refuses to let him go even after he tries to take his hand back again. Her grip is strong but gentle and it feels important, like an assurance, a promise – he’s just not sure what for yet.

“C’mon,” Matt says jolting the two of them back to the present and he eyes them with a hint of fond exasperation, “breakfast is getting cold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to indulge me with requests or any rambles in general on [tumblr](http://eleison.tumblr.com)


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